


i know

by harvestingrice



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bars and Pubs, Established Relationship, M/M, Olympics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:40:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28340295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harvestingrice/pseuds/harvestingrice
Summary: Bokuto and Hinata, used to Atsumu’s attempts at conversation every time there is silence, stay on their phones. Everyone else gives him a blank stare. Damn Omi and always taking forever to get ready.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 9
Kudos: 124





	i know

So it turns out that Sakusa is a big nerd for the Olympics.

He sort of became an internet sensation after an interview of the team where everyone was asked what they were excited for in the coming days. Naturally, everyone else had said something volleyball related, but a light shone in Sakusa's eyes as he said, "I am most excited to see figure skating in person." 

"Anything else, Sakusa-senshu?" the interviewer had prompted, and against the backdrop of the volleyball courts and his teammates practicing in the background, Sakusa was a perfect picture. He stood with his hands clasped in front of him with his usual slightly bowed posture, head tipped down the slightest bit as he thought. 

Sakusa’s chin suddenly jerked up and his eyes widened. He looked so earnest, so impassioned. The world held their breath. What would Sakusa Kiyoomi, starting outside hitter of the Men’s Japanese Olympic volleyball team, say? 

Sakusa touched his right ear in the place where a mask, if he was wearing one, would loop around, then let his hand drop. The world watched with rapt eyes, leaning forward.

Sakusa said quietly, "Also gymnastics." Then he bowed quickly to the interviewer, who hastily bowed in return, and he walked away. 

In a stroke of genius or intuition, the cameraman followed Sakusa for a few more precious seconds, zooming in as he padded across the middle line between the courts. Bokuto smashed a ball over the net and Yaku, waiting on the other side, dove for it. Right as the ball was about to fly out of bounds, Sakusa turned his head and caught it in two hands. The squawks of Bokuto and Yaku could be heard faintly as Sakusa strolled away with the ball held to his chest, ignoring them. 

And that’s Atsumu’s _boyfriend._

Yeah, so, the Olympics is nice. It’s really, really nice. Atsumu and Sakusa fall into a routine and Atsumu couldn’t be happier about it. 

Each evening after the day’s Olympic-ing is over, they go back to their dorm to decompress, tumbling onto the bed with the least stuff on it and making out until Atsumu gets hungry or Sakusa gets bored. Then either Atsumu will begin searching on his phone for places to order takeout or Sakusa will start folding the clothes they were kissing on top of. The next day they wake up together, hurriedly get changed, toss their sleeping clothes in the bed they slept in, and repeat. 

Now, though, it’s evening and Atsumu comes out of the bathroom to see Sakusa standing in front of the body length mirror on the door, naked from the waist up and touching a finger to his ear where it connects with his mask. 

“Hey, weirdo,” Atsumu says, biting his tongue to not laugh out loud, “Pretty sure this is a ‘no shirt, no service’ kinda bar.”

“I’m thinking,” Sakusa sighs, squinting his reflection like it wronged him specifically. 

“Think with a shirt on,” Atsumu grins, shuffling behind Sakusa. He goes on his tiptoes, propping his chin on Sakusa’s shoulder. Sakusa touches his other ear and sighs again. Atsumu takes the loops of Sakusa’s mask between his fingers, adjusting them where they tangle in his curly hair.

“I’m gonna head out.” Atsumu continues. 

Sakusa frowns. “Just wait for me."

“This is for your own good~” Atsumu sing songs, stepping back and heading for the door.

Once the sun has set Sakusa is an object that, if undisturbed, would stay at rest until the sun rose the next day. Atsumu has learned from experience that the best way to get Sakusa to a second location is by leaving the first location.

“Tennis was good today,” Atsumu offers to his bar-going teammates where they’re waiting just outside the Olympic Village dorm building. He and Sakusa went to watch in person earlier today.

Bokuto and Hinata, used to Atsumu’s attempts at conversation every time there is silence, stay on their phones. Everyone else gives him a blank stare. Damn Omi and always taking forever to get ready.

“Wait, why are we waiting again?” Hoshiumi asks.

“We’re waitin’ on Omi-kun,” Atsumu reminds him. 

Hoshiumi blinks at Atsumu and then says, louder, “I’M SINGLE.” It tangentially has to do with what Atsumu said. 

“At your level, you'd do better playing doubles,” Ushijima says. So the bastard knew that much about tennis and still let Atsumu flop. 

Bokuto looks up from his phone. “You're playing tennis at the Olympics?” he asks Hoshiumi, who replies triumphantly, “I’ve never played tennis before!”

Hinata looks up as well. “One of my best friends from elementary school played tennis too, but not at the Olympics!” he says. There are two bastards who let Atsumu flop.

Atsumu tilts his head. “Hoshiumi, are ya sure you’ve never played tennis before? Isn’t it, like, a physical education requirement?”

“I played volleyball!”

“You played volleyball to replace tennis?”

“To replace everything!”

Talking to the Schweiden Adlers feels talking to a wall that is very strong and sometimes yells. Atsumu very much wants to get into what Hoshiumi could possibly mean by _everything_ but then Bokuto chimes in again, “Isn’t Omi-kun in figure skating?”

“No. I watch figure skating.” 

Everyone turns around at the sound of a new voice, low with vexation. Sakusa walks up to them with his hands shoved in his jean pockets, wearing a new mask. Instead of the disposable one he was wearing inside, it’s a thicker black mask made of fabric. Was that what he was so hung up on? 

They begin their walk to the bar, just a street down. Atsumu and Sakusa fall behind next to each other. “People watch figure skating," Sakusa continues to himself, voice strained; the life of an athlete trending during the Olympics is rough. 

*

About two hours in, Hoshiumi was finally able to find a table outside the bar that was free and dragged Kiyoomi over to chat. 

“Thanks, Sakusa,” Hoshiumi says now, waving at the camera in Ushijima’s hands. “Now, let’s introduce today’s collaboration fundraiser with veterinarian Hirugami.” He gestures at Kiyoomi, who squints at the camera, trying to remember if he was supposed to do anything for this part.

Hoshiumi passes him a photocard and continues, “Go ahead, Sakusa.” 

Right. Kiyoomi turns to Hoshiumi. “I’ll match the donations on this one,” he says. 

Hoshiumi grins. “Thank you, that’s very kind of you!” He pauses. “Wait, look at the camera when you talk.”

“Okay.” Kiyoomi holds the photocard Hoshiumi gave him up, which shows a picture of an older shiba inu in a red sweater. He blinks at the camera for a second before beginning, “Meet Mango.” Hoshiumi gestures at Kiyoomi to continue.

“He is…” Kiyoomi looks at Hoshiumi, then back down at the card. “a good boy. The information on how to donate to help fund his hip surgery will be linked down below.” 

Hoshiumi gives a thumbs up to Ushijima behind the camera, who bobs his head and stops recording.

Kiyoomi glances around and spots Atsumu on the other side of the bar patio. They’ll definitely meet again at some point. Atsumu can only mingle in spurts and uses Kiyoomi as his recharging pitstop. Kiyoomi wonders idly what Atsumu’s reaction would be to this. He would probably think it’s sweet. Hm. He would also definitely think it’s hilarious. 

“What happened?” Hoshiumi asks, breaking Kiyoomi out of his thoughts. 

“Nothing.”

“Did you see that?” Hoshiumi prods Ushijima, who shakes his head.

“Sakusa like,” Hoshiumi turns to Kiyoomi, frowning meaningfully. “You like, changed for a second.”

Kiyoomi blinks. “I saw Miya.” 

“Did he wave hi or something?” 

“No, he didn’t see me.” 

Atsumu was in the crowd laughing with a circle of people Kiyoomi doesn’t know, his face a little pink--not from drinking, he doesn’t drink, but from the conversation. Also probably dehydration, knowing him.

Hoshiumi pauses, studying Kiyoomi. He looks kind of insulted for some reason. “Damn.” he says.

“Love.” Ushijima says. Kiyoomi looks sharply at him.

“The number of people Kourai has dated,” Ushijima continues. He notices Kiyoomi’s tense form and explains, “Love in tennis means zero--”

Hoshiumi reaches over the table and smacks Ushijima’s shoulder. Kiyoomi doesn't know what to say.

“Ready to go, Kiyoomi-kun?” Ushijima continues after a moment. Kiyoomi had asked him earlier if they could walk back to the dorms together. He realizes he hasn’t said anything out loud for a while and touches his ear where his mask meets.

“Is it okay if I find you in a little bit? There’s one more person I want to talk to.” 

Atsumu, tired from conversation, spots Sakusa instantly. He’s sitting at one of the outdoor tables, his legs stretched out underneath it and tapping on his phone. Atsumu sneaks up behind Sakusa, then quickly drops in the seat opposite of him. 

"Hiiiiiiiiiiiiii," Atsumu says. Sakusa finishes typing something, then slides his phone in the back pocket of his jeans and looks up.

"Hi."

"Why are you sittin' here alone, Omi-Omi?" 

Sakusa crosses his arms. "I was talking to Hoshiumi, and then he left." 

"That's fine and good, you can hang out with me now."

Sakusa bumps his ankle against Atsumu's under the table once, twice. "What's on your lips?"

Atsumu bites his bottom lip instinctively, smiling a little when Sakusa mirrors his action. "A girl from Switzerland put lipgloss on me," Atsumu says, pursing his lips for a moment. “She’s sponsored by them or somethin’.”

"It's glittery," Sakusa notes, leaning back in his chair. His eyes are still on Atsumu’s lips. Atsumu leans forward, putting his forearms on the table. 

"It's flavored," Atsumu says, "Taste test?" 

Above the sounds of people coming from the bar Atsumu hears Sakusa mutter, “Gross,” but he obliges, pulling down his mask and leaning over the table in one quick motion. Atsumu meets him halfway and Sakusa kisses him, quick and chaste, running his tongue along Atsumu’s bottom lip gently before pulling back.

"Strawberry." Sakusa says once he's settled back in his seat, pulling his mask back up and crossing his arms again. Sakusa looks so sweet and cozy with neon lights from the bar reflecting off his face that Atsumu can’t stop himself from grabbing his chair by the arms and moving himself sit next to him.

“Are you having fun?” Sakusa asks, looking a bit amused. 

“Of course.” There’s something pink in Sakusa’s hair that Atsumu can now see from this angle. Sakusa notices where he’s looking. 

“A figure skater gave it to me.” he says, and Atsumu studies it: a hair clip. It has a cat smiling demurely, and when he looks back at Sakusa, he’s smiling the same, a bit shy and pleased with himself. It seems like Sakusa had fun too.

“I’m going to head out now.” Sakusa continues.

“I’ll go with you!”

“No. You stay and--” Sakusa flaps a hand. Atsumu guesses that means Mingle With People. 

“Omi, I’ll be walkin' you back anyway, so--”

“You won’t. Now help me find Wakatoshi-kun.” Sakusa says with finality, standing up. He holds out his hand for Atsumu. It’s a gesture that never fails to make Atsumu’s heart speed up and now Sakusa is using it to his advantage. Sakusa wiggles his fingers in askance and Atsumu sulks as he takes it.

“Why do we gotta find Waka-kun?” Atsumu wonders as they go back to the bar entrance. Sakusa doesn’t seem to hear him and his hand tightens in Atsumu’s when they step inside. It’s dark in the bar, and crowded, Atsumu taking the lead as they weave through people.

After a few beats Sakusa’s voice cuts through the clamour of voices, close to Atsumu’s ear. “Wakatoshi-kun said he'd leave with me when I wanted to go. I just texted him to meet me inside.”

Atsumu wonders why Sakusa would ask Ushijima to wait inside, glancing up at Sakusa’s tense form. He decides not to ask and looks side to side as they walk. “Waka-kun doesn’t seem like the bar type.”

“He only went with us because Hoshiumi wanted him to record.”

Atsumu spots Hinata, Bokuto, and a few other people sitting together at a table, too far away to call out to. Wait, is that the Argentinian setter with the disgusting serve sitting with them? “What do ya mean by recordin'?”

“Hoshiumi started a vlog for the Olympics.” Sakusa pauses, pressing closer to Atsumu as they get deeper into the bar where it’s more packed and rowdy. “Wakatoshi-kun is his camera man.”

“So you were talkin’ to Hoshiumi earlier cause he wanted ya in his vlog.” 

“Yes.”

Atsumu smiles at that. Hoshiumi and Sakusa are always funny together, mostly due to the Adlers-being-a-wall-that-yells thing and Sakusa being MSBY’s resident wall. “I didn’t know you and Hoshiumi were close.” 

“We’re not. He said my appearance is part of a professional strategy in growing his channel.” 

“...”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“H o sH I uMi put yo u in His vi d eo for the M E Me CLOut”

“Are you done now?” 

“OMI -k un th at’s . jus t So fun NY”

“He asked me for advice on breaking into industry.” 

“Ho LY SH IT I CAN’ t fucKIN b RE A THE” 

“...”

“S to P LOo ki N a t m e l i K e thAT”

“You’re taking up the walkway.”

Sakusa pulls them to the side, waiting as Atsumu cackles, holding his stomach. “That’s so good, Omi,” he says once he can speak.

“I know.” Sakusa says quietly, like he didn’t mean to say it aloud. Before Atsumu can comment on it, Sakusa turns and nods. “Wakatoshi-kun’s over there.”

Ushijima’s sitting at the actual bar, sitting on a barstool and talking to the bartender. “WAKA-KUN!” Atsumu yells, and Ushijima turns around, looking around for a moment before locking eyes with Atsumu. 

Ushijima raises his hand to Atsumu, then turns to say something to the bartender, who nods and walks off. Atsumu elbows his way through the rest of the crowd, holding Sakusa’s hand tightly. 

By the time they reach Ushijima, who rises from the barstool, Sakusa seems to have spent the last of his energy. Sakusa slumps against Atsumu’s shoulder and Atsumu says “Hup!” and deposits Sakusa in Ushijima’s arms, who holds Sakusa with his hands at Sakusa’s armpits like a cat. 

Sakusa droops in Ushijima’s hold, his head sagging a bit and his arms dangling at his sides, looking somewhat mournfully up at Atsumu. Ushijima’s back gets straighter, if that’s possible. 

“Let’s go, Wakatoshi-kun.” Sakusa says, tilting his head up to look at Ushijima. “Okay,” Ushijima says, his head tilted downwards to meet Sakusa’s gaze. 

He moves Sakusa from his arms to the bar seat and Sakusa slumps into it. Sakusa looks pissed off, and Atsumu knows that look. It means he’s overwhelmed.

“I gotta tell ya something before ya leave,” Atsumu says. Ushijima nods again, unperturbed. Sakusa frowns up at Atsumu. 

Atsumu figures he might as well have a little fun. “Wakatoshi-kun, protect him with your life,” he says grimly. “I can’t leave Omi in your care unless ya promise me that you’d sacrifice yourself for him.” 

“Sacrifice, like a ritual?” Ushijima asks.

“Nah, like, if you get into danger, protect him with your life.”

Sakusa is full on glaring at Atsumu now, and Atsumu just beams at him in return, half hearing Ushijima’s response of “There’s nothing dangerous about a five minute walk.” 

“I’m just sayin' if someone tried to steal your wallet or somethin’, make sure it’s you and not Omi.” Atsumu says, hands akimbo. Sakusa sighs inaudibly.

“I doubt that would happen, Atsumu-san,” Ushijima says as Sakusa mutters, “Now you’re just telling Wakatoshi-kun to let his stuff get stolen.” His talking signals to Atsumu he’s ready to go. 

“Okay! That’s all.” Atsumu smiles. Sakusa stands up from the bar stool, swaying slightly. Atsumu immediately catches him around the waist, pulling Sakusa into his body. 

“You’re so weird,” Sakusa says hoarsely, his words hidden underneath the noises of the bar. They both flinch and turn around at a sudden flash of light. That’s when Atsumu notices the camera hanging around Ushijima’s neck, now in his hands. 

“I apologize,” Ushijima says, “I thought that was the off button.” Ushijima tucks the camera back into a bag that’s sitting at the bar table and nods at Sakusa, who steps out of Atsumu’s arms.

“Drink the whole thing,” Sakusa says, which makes no sense. “Enjoy the night, Atsumu-san.” Ushijima says, which makes Atsumu tense up a little, which makes no sense. 

“Get outta here,” Atsumu huffs, but Ushijima’s words linger in his head as he watches them leave together and get swallowed up by the crowd. It hadn’t occurred to him that Sakusa would think about Atsumu wanting to stay longer than Sakusa could probably stand, and then make a plan so Atsumu could stay. 

Atsumu sits at the unoccupied bar seat and runs a hand through his hair. His hand catches on something and he wiggles it out. His mouth trembles a little when he looks down at his palm and sees a hairpin with a cat smiling up at him. Then the bartender comes back and hands Atsumu a water bottle and Atsumu actually gets teary eyed. 

*

Arm in arm with Hinata and Bokuto and stumbling back to the Olympic Village, Atsumu decides he has enjoyed the night. It's the blurred multicolored lights of his home country surrounding him like a hug, and it's his teammates on either side of him that he'll be seeing long after they tear down the stadium. 

What Atsumu enjoys the most, though, is that he's heading back to the prickliest person he knows, who'll be covered in blankets as he watches reruns of today's competitors on his phone. 

“I’m back,” Atsumu sing songs as he opens the door to his dorm. He bites the side of his cheek when he sees Sakusa exactly as he predicted, curled up on his side in a pile of blankets and watching Olympic reruns on his phone. 

The light in the room is dim, everything turned off except for the small lamp between the two beds. Atsumu pads through the room to get clothes to change into, tucking the hair pin into his suitcase along the way. “Watchin' stuff sideways like that is shit for your eyes, Omi-Omi.”

“Mmmmm.” Sakusa hums, flopping onto his stomach and holding his phone horizontally. “How was it?”

“It was fun. I learned a lot about Oikawa-kun, the guy from Argentina that everyone seemed to know. Gonna go shower now.”

“Mmmm.” Sakusa mumbles again. Atsumu glances at him as he walks past the bed to the bathroom. The phone illuminates his face; a blanket is pulled up to his chin. 

When Atsumu comes out of the bathroom a half hour later dressed in clean sleeping clothes, Sakusa has fallen asleep on his side. His phone is still playing next to him, commentator’s voices on synchronized swimming breaking the quiet of the room. 

Atsumu tries his best to quietly sit down on the bed, cross legged and facing Sakusa. He admires Sakusa for a moment, appreciating the sight of his slightly parted lips and his cheek pressed against the pillow, before picking up the phone. 

Atsumu pauses the video and Sakusa immediately shifts, turning on his side and reaching out for Atsumu. Atsumu reaches over Sakusa to place his phone on the bedside table, then wiggles into Sakusa’s outstretched arms. 

“The silence is what woke you up?” Atsumu chuckles. In the space between their bodies, he takes Sakusa’s left hand in his own and begins to massage it. 

“It wasn't that,” Sakusa grumbles. His eyes are still closed. “It was you.”

“M’sorry.” Atsumu murmurs. He places Sakusa’s left hand back on the bed and starts massaging the right, pressing his thumbs firmly against the tender spots on his palm and wrist, the way he likes it. “Go back to sleep.”

“No.” Sakusa's eyes pop open once Atsumu finishes, and he pulls his hand away, moving it to Atsumu’s face and stroking Atsumu’s cheek with his thumb briefly in thanks. 

Atsumu fidgets amongst the blankets once Sakusa’s hand withdraws. “Okay.” he says. “Wanna talk?”

“No.” Atsumu squints at Sakusa, softening when he continues, “What were you saying about Oikawa?”

It’s a damn good story, the one of Oikawa’s journey from a player in the Miyagi prefecture to the starting setter of an Olympic team, told by Hinata, Hoshiumi (even though he was only peripherally involved), Oikawa, and an array of others. Atsumu plays it up, waving his hands in the air as he talks to the ceiling. 

As Atsumu talks, Sakusa becomes more and more awake. Sakusa’s lips draw up at the part of the story Atsumu liked the best too, when Hinata and Oikawa found each other in Brazil.

Somewhere in the midst of it Atsumu turns his head to look at Sakusa and sees that Sakusa is still on his side, his dark curls splayed against his pillow, watching Atsumu intently. 

He looks so _concentrated_. It just about takes Atsumu’s breath away. Atsumu stops in the middle of his sentence, suddenly disconcerted. 

“What?” Sakusa mumbles.

Atsumu thinks about he and Sakusa wordlessly sleep in the same bed every night even though the room came with two, how Sakusa indulged him at the bar earlier, how Sakusa knew he’d be in the mood to talk when he came back, and he says “I wanna kiss you, Omi,” turning his head back to look up at the ceiling.

The soft sound of Sakusa’s body shifting in the sheets breaks the silence in the room. When Atsumu doesn’t move, Sakusa moves to hold himself over Atsumu’s body, his hands on either side of Atsumu’s head. 

Atsumu exhales, wrapping his hands around the back of Sakusa’s neck and playing with the soft, shorn hair behind his ears. 

“What if I told you that I’m shy?” Atsumu’s lips draw up as he says it, and Sakusa’s lips mirror the motion.

“When are you ever shy?” Sakusa says. 

Atsumu sits up with his back against the bed’s headboard, pulling Sakusa up with him. Sakusa adjusts to straddle Atsumu’s hips. Atsumu nuzzles into Sakusa’s curls, breathing in the sweet, clean scent of his hair. “Around you, I am.”

“You’re not shy, you’re tired.” Sakusa sighs. He looks down as he shifts his knees, getting comfortable. It’s not the easiest position for two people over 180 cm. The first time Atsumu tried to get Sakusa to sit in his lap he squirmed away, protesting that sitting in a person’s lap was unnecessary. (That was the word he used. _Unnecessary._ ) 

Now, it’s just another thing that Sakusa indulges him in. His bare legs brush against Atsumu’s, giving Atsumu goosebumps. 

“Y’know, that makes sense.” Atsumu’s heart skips a beat when Sakusa looks back up, his eyes soft in the low light. “I think you're right.”

“Of course I’m right.”

Sakusa cups Atsumu’s cheek and presses their lips together. They kiss twice before Atsumu licks at the seam of Sakusa’s lips, his eyebrows drawing together at the taste of him. Sakusa lets Atsumu tease his mouth open with the tip of his tongue and presses him gently against the headboard.

Atsumu wraps his hands around the back of Sakusa’s neck again, tilting Sakusa’s head slightly to deepen the kiss. They lick into each other’s mouths softly, Atsumu brushing their noses together just because he can. Sakusa sucks Atsumu’s bottom lip gently before he pulls away, breaking it.

Atsumu smiles at Sakusa, confidence regained, smacking his lips. Sakusa looks mostly unimpressed, but there’s a faint flush on his cheeks. His nose scrunches when Atsumu suddenly takes Sakusa’s face in his hands, peppering his face with kisses. “What is this about?”

“This is about nothing.” Atsumu says between pecks. He pushes Sakusa gently and Sakusa lets Atsumu’s weight make him fall on his back onto bed. Atsumu crawls over Sakusa’s body, kissing all over his face, reveling in the heat his lips feel emanating from Sakusa’s temple, the underside of his jaw, his nose. 

Atsumu kisses Sakusa’s face over and over. He swears he can’t stop. _God._ Sakusa laughs soundlessly when Atsumu kisses him firmly on the cheek, squishing the side of his face into the mattress. Maybe he’ll keep kissing Sakusa forever--

Atsumu loses his breath, tucking his face into the crook of Sakusa’s neck and panting. He can feel the uneven rise and fall of Sakusa’s chest as he continues to laugh.

Sakusa’s hands run over Atsumu’s back, holding Atsumu to him. Then Sakusa says, voice wavering in amusement, “And you say my stamina is shit."

“Ugh,” Atsumu mumbles petulantly into Sakusa’s neck, pressing his face into the soft, warm skin there. Sakusa turns to his side, taking Atsumu’s face out from his neck and examining him, his eyes moving up and down Atsumu’s face. 

“Give me a second,” he says, and crawls over Atsumu off the bed. Atsumu blinks at the ceiling as he listens to Sakusa pad to the bathroom and rummage around. In a moment Sakusa is crawling back over Atsumu’s body and he makes an _oof_ sound when Sakusa’s thigh presses against his stomach.

Sakusa straddles Atsumu’s hips and scrubs at his face with a damp washcloth. “What the hell,” Atsumu huffs, shaking his head to get him off. Sakusa holds his jaw in one hand to keep him still, scrubbing with the other. 

“Atsumu.” Sakusa says softly, “Stay still, there’s still glitter on your face.”

He’s doing that thing again, gently stroking Atsumu’s cheek with his thumb and making Atsumu feel all cared for. Atsumu stills, his face heating up despite himself as Sakusa continues looking him over, methodically tilting his face. 

“Okay.” Sakusa says after a few beats, crawling out of bed one more time to put the washcloth away. When Sakusa comes back and lays down, Atsumu rolls over to hug him.

“Damn, Omi, since when were you such a sap?” Atsumu says quietly.

“I know.” Sakusa twists his mouth like he’s seriously thinking it over. It’s the most endearing thing Atsumu’s ever seen. “My bad.”

Atsumu squeezes Sakusa tighter, suddenly exhausted and unable to answer. It’s as if the day’s fatigue has hit him all at once.

Sakusa notices it immediately. He always does. “Go to sleep,” he says, extracting himself from Atsumu’s hold gently. “I want to watch more--”

“Synchronized swimming,” Atsumu mumbles, finishing the sentence with him. Atsumu takes Sakusa’s free hand and plants it firmly in his hair, then snuggles deeper into the blankets. “Alright, g’night Omi.”

“Goodnight.”

It feels good to rest his eyes for the first time all day. Atsumu gets lulled deeper and deeper into sleep by the soft sounds of competition from Sakusa’s phone and his fingers in Atsumu’s hair, gently scratching his scalp. But it’s not until Sakusa turns off his phone and gets under the covers, wrapping an arm over Atsumu and pressing his chest against Atsumu’s back, that Atsumu falls asleep with a faint smile on his lips.

*

**atsumiya** [emoji of two champagne glasses clinking]

_[A picture of Sakusa and Atsumu standing together in the middle of a bar. They’re holding each other, Atsumu’s arm wrapped around Sakusa’s waist and one of Sakusa’s hands pressed onto Atsumu’s chest. They look into each other’s eyes, soft and smiling. The bottom half of the photo is covered by a fuzzy, tan smudge, which is tagged with **ushijimaofficial**.]_

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! <3 [twitter~](https://twitter.com/buckethatkita)


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